


Flowers in Flight

by NathanielCardeu



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, HHBingo2019, Romance, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 12:09:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17787146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NathanielCardeu/pseuds/NathanielCardeu
Summary: Remember that scene from Peter Pan, when Peter and the Darling children fly over London?Neville insists that Hermione join him on a night flight.





	Flowers in Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing! The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.
> 
> This is inspired by the instrumental piece of music “Flying” from the Peter Pan movie [2003] - composed by James Newton Howard. Originally I had intended to set it to the music so that, if it was read at the right speed, the events in this story would match closely to the music – the story took on, ironically, a very organic quality and kept growing. I didn’t want to sacrifice the story for the brevity that would have been required so it is longer than first expected – the music still holds the emotion of this story, so listen to it if you can; it’s a beautiful piece of music!

Hermione did not go for clichés. Flowers and chocolates for Valentine's Day seemed like a half hearted effort, a lack of original thought. 

 

She stared at the small slips of parchment on her dresser, a single word written, in Neville’s handwriting, on each one. They had rearranged themselves on the table, and she read them for the umptienth time today.

 

"You can have something better tomorrow. For now, just wait for evening," she muttered out loud.

 

There was one for each of the red roses that had been delivered to her flat door; roses that had vanished when she cut the stems, leaving her holding the small bits of parchment.

 

Neville, who had sent the roses, was usually more thoughtful and romantic than to settle for a cliché like a dozen roses. Flowers and plants were a normal part of their lives together; unusual ones, too, as befitted Hogwarts' Herbology Professor. When the roses had vanished, she realised that things may not be as cliché as had thought. She was very keen on interrogating him, but it seemed he was late!

 

A tap at the window made her start; their flat was on the 5th floor!

 

She gave a laugh then, and threw open the sash window and leaned outside, her hair ruffled by a chill breeze.

 

"Hermione, my love," Neville said, hand on his heart, floating a few feet away on his broomstick, "would you come for a ride with me?"

 

"Neville, it's February!" she said incredulously, the cold air sending shivers across her skin.

 

"So get a coat and get on, woman!" he laughed. "Come on, we're losing time!"

 

Sticking her tongue out at him, she quickly threw on a warm jacket and settled herself on the back of the broomstick. "What are you planning," she asked, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his broad chest.

 

"Hold tight, darling!" Neville called, ignoring her question, even though she was certain he’d heard her. He leaned forward and the broomstick took off into the night sky.

 

The first thing she noticed was that it wasn't cold. The faint tingle of magic surrounded them; a warming charm no doubt. She had no time to think, as Neville looped over the rooftops and pushed them into an exhilarating dive down to the surface of the Thames.

 

A small wake formed behind the broom’s tail as they glided close to the water’s surface, the boat lights along the bank creating a glittering background. Looking ahead, she saw they were headed towards Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, all of the illuminated windows making the imposing buildings appear even more impressive.

 

Neville steered the broom towards the London Eye, the wheel dominating the skyline. They circled the massive edifice, climbing higher and higher with each circuit. He brought the broom to a stop above the highest pod, reached down, and plucked a beautiful red rose from the gantry. Turning to look over his shoulder, he passed the rose to her with a grin.

 

"What are you up to, Longbottom?" she asked with mock severity wondering, again, what his plan was. They had been together for four years now and this was the most elaborate Valentine's eve so far. “You realise that flying around like this is risking being seen by Muggles?”

 

"Just a midnight flight, my darling," he laughed, steering the broom slowly over the river. "Try breathing on it," he suggested, as mischief danced in his eyes.

 

Hermione blew softly on the red petals, watching in wonder as they transformed before her eyes. They were long and purple, the heart of the flower now a bright yellow; it was an Aster.

 

Looking up at Neville again she smiled in wonder. "How...?"

 

He held up another rose, plucked unnoticed from the pinnacle of Big Ben's spire. "The first, an Aster, is for the blessed day you were born."

 

Hermione took the new rose and blew on it, knowing already what was expected. It shifted and transformed into a stem of pink, bell-shaped flowers on a single stalk.

 

Neville grinned at the wonder on her face. "Lily of the Valley, for the times I visited you in the Hospital Wing, when you were petrified."

 

Hermione felt her heart swell as the ride continued. They visited nine other major sites in London, both magical and Muggle and Neville plucked a rose from each one. Hermione brought to life new flowers with each breath, while Neville provided its history.

 

As they left the Houses of Parliament behind--she clutching a small stem with several, small, white flowers with a pink flush--he said, "A Sweet pea, to remember when I was accepted as Herbology Professor, and the surprise celebration you threw me."

 

"A poppy,” Neville said with a small catch in his voice, as they soared away from St Paul's Cathedral, “for being with me at my Grandmother's funeral, even though you should have been at work."

 

Hermione pulled herself closer to him, cradling the flowers, remembering that day. It happened to also be the day that she had realised that she was with the wrong man... that the man who she truly wanted--the man who would share in her love completely, and that she would truly love in return--was the dear friend sat next to her, clutching her hand. The vividness of the poppy's deep red petals was matched by the stark black of the flower's centre.

 

Gringott's bank was where Neville looked at her with shining eyes. "A white Narcissus--or daffodil, if you prefer--for the first Christmas, just over four years ago now, when I could finally say I was yours."

 

A thrilling barrel roll saw Neville soar over the roof of the Leaky Cauldron, and come away with another rose. With a single breath it became a delicate, white bell-shaped flower. "A snowdrop, for the best New Year I've ever had, spent in your arms for the first time."

 

A seventh flower. "Another Narcissus, yellow this time, for that March we spent in the Lake District, gathering rare plants for my class."

 

Her eighth bloom. "A Chrysanthemum, to commemorate the Muggle firework display we went to, with your parents." The multitudes of petals were delicate lavender, all clustered round the bright yellow centre.

 

Hermione smiled fondly at the next flower, a stem with five, bright, violet flowers. The blooms were bowed, with long, thin bodies pointing upwards.

 

"Forking Larkspur, for the time we spent in France together, last July, for my thirtieth."

 

Hermione laughed as she remembered the joy in Neville's voice when they had both stumbled on the corn field in France, and found this rare plant.

 

"Calendula; Sea Marigold to be precise. This is to celebrate the October we moved in together."

 

The pale yellow petals spread out from the rich green-yellow stigma at the centre. It was another rarity, one that Neville had carefully added to the plants in the Hogwarts greenhouses.

 

Each flower was the best example that Hermione had ever seen; beautiful, colourful and fragrant. Their perfume filled the air as Hermione and Neville soared over the London cityscape. Neville swooped down towards their flat and Hermione prepared to land.

 

Feeling her shift slightly, Neville reached back and gently held her leg, indicating for her to stay still. "Not yet, sweetheart. You're still missing two flowers." As they swept past the roof of their flat, Neville plucked a bloom from the television aerial. Passing it back to her, Neville watched it change shape at her breath. Curved petals with large, rounded tips surrounded small stamen, all a delicate shade of yellow. "A Primrose," Neville said, "because, well... it's almost Valentine's Day." He glanced at his watch before saying, "In fact, ten minutes is all we have to wait. Hold on tight, we need to make up some time here!"

 

Leaning forward, he urged the broom faster. Hermione wrapped her arm around his waist, feeling his muscles, taut and hard beneath her hand. She cradled the flowers against her chest, a whispered charm protecting them from damage.

 

In a moment, the broom had carried them swiftly out into the night, away from London and into the darkness of the countryside. Hermione couldn't tell which way they were going, only able to focus on the thrilling speed as they whipped across the darkened land.

 

The sky was abruptly filled with water as they flew into the path of a storm, heavy rain pelting them and the roll of thunder growling in the darkness. Hermione gave a small scream as a bolt of lightning, bright and stark against the night sky, lanced down from the heavens. The smell of ozone and the strange pressure from the intensity wrapped its clammy fingers about them, the warming charm faltering for a moment.

 

More rolls of thunder, accompanied by intense flashes of light lit the air around them and Neville dared to take one hand from the broom to flick his wand. A charm repelled the water from them, and they flew on in a bubble of dry air.

 

"Hold on!" Neville's roared over the sound of the storm and the broom increased its speed. He pushed the broom harder, their hair whipping backwards. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and huddled close to Neville: she wasn't scared though, and she knew he would never do anything that would put her in danger. She trusted him completely. There was the abrupt sensation of space, of being thrust into a vast open room, and she opened her eyes again.

 

They had left the countryside behind, the storm dwindling on the horizon, and ahead…

 

Ahead she could see the sea!

 

She always loved the sight of the sea; the sound, the power. It was so beautiful, especially at night. The moon sat low on the horizon, large and full, lighting the whole land as Neville's broom soared over the cliffs and out over the water.

 

Neville slowed some distance out to sea and turned so that he sat sideways on the broom. He looked at Hermione and smiled concernedly. "Didn't plan for bad weather. Sorry, sweetheart. It didn't scare you did it?"

 

She laughed. "I loved every second of it! When did you learn to fly like that? It was incredible!"

 

Neville smiled shyly. "Harry's been teaching me a few things. He said that I'm a good student too." He sounded proud that one of his friends thought that of him.

 

"Well, I think you are incredible, Neville," she said.

 

His hands cupped her face gently and he planted a tender kiss on her lips and she leaned into it, deepening it. When they parted Neville grinned, holding up a rose. Its petals were folded still; a bud not yet in bloom.

 

"I did wonder where my twelfth one was," Hermione teased with a small smile. "Thought you were holding out on me."

 

"Never," he whispered. "Go ahead."

 

He seemed nervous, his breathing faster than normal, as though he had run a mile. Hermione felt her own heart rate lift in response. Tension filled the air as she took the rose.

 

She breathed gently on the petals, which fluttered in the breeze. They gently twisted and opened, changing colour but not form. The deep red became a gentle pink blush and the rose unfurled into a large and beautiful specimen.

 

"The last one, the Rose, classic and beautiful," Neville said in a rush, "to complete the spell."

 

"What spell?" she whispered, gazing into his eyes.

 

He just smiled and drew his wand. "Hold the flowers together," he said quietly, and Hermione held the dozen flowers up between them. Their fragrance filled the air and Hermione felt a rush of euphoria at the combined scents.

 

"Neville, what an incredible bouquet," she sighed, burying her nose in her blossoms to take in each unique scent.

 

"Only the best for you, Hermione," he said, his voice catching slightly. Turning on the broom until he was facing her completely, he rested one hand on hers as she clutched the flower stems, the tip of his wand resting against the stems. "Hermione," he said, suddenly serious, "I love you."

 

"I love you too, Neville," she said.

 

"You are my everything. When I stumble, you are there. I want to be the same support for you. To be the one to love you and hold you close, always."

 

Hermione felt her chest constrict, her heart pounding now. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. Each of his softly whispered words created a stunned certainty in her mind. With wide and shining eyes she savoured this moment, knowing what was to come. Outwardly she seemed composed; inside her head, however, all she could hear was "Oh my God, oh my God!"

 

"Hermione, I want to be the best man I can be for you. I want to be by your side forever. Would you do me the greatest honour... of becoming my wife?"

 

"Oh, Neville!" The tears that had threatened now spilled down her cheeks. "Yes! Yes, of course I'll marry you!"

 

At the sound of her words each of the blooms began to glow with their own light. A wonderfully bright display that consumed petal, leaf, and stem, until the bouquet was a stunning white light that lit the space between them. The light grew until a small sun lay between them, and only the feel of Neville's hands touching hers kept Hermione from losing all sense of her own body. The light began to radiate heat, a gentle warmth, and Hermione felt the flowers shifting and changing once more. The light receded and Hermione blinked in the sudden darkness.

 

The flowers were gone, but Hermione had one hand in Neville's, the other closed tight. Something small pressed against the flesh of her palm. As her vision cleared she looked down at her fist, then up to Neville.

 

Gently, he turned her wrist to unfurl her fingers, revealing a small gold ring, set with a trio of beautiful stones; diamonds that caught the light of the moon and reflected all of the colours from the flowers that had vanished.

 

"It's beautiful, Neville," she whispered.

 

Taking the ring he slid it onto her finger. Lifting her hand he laid a gentle kiss on her fingers before Hermione grabbed his shirt and captured his lips with hers. There, silhouetted against a moon that was large and bright with possibilities, two shadows melded together.

 

They became one.

Forever.

 

* ~ nox ~ *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Hermione's Haven for the Bingo card challenge that enabled me to dust off an old Valentine fic of mine and share it with a new audience. I apologise for just how sappy this is!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
